Today, October 15th, is “Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day,” a special occasion set aside to remember and pray for those who’ve lost a child due to miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, stillbirth, or loss of an infant after birth. You can learn more about the support and encouragement offered at www.october15th.com.
I lost my third child in August, due to miscarriage.
I don’t really want to talk about it or blog about it or, to be honest, even think about it. The grief is still too fresh, too real. I don’t think I yet know how to deal with my loss. Perhaps I never will.
I’ve held strong pro-life convictions since I was quite young, but losing my baby who was only weeks old in my womb solidified my beliefs into concrete covered in superglue and wrapped in titanium. Even though I never saw my baby, felt my baby, smelled my baby, held my baby, or even really had a chance to dream and plan very much about my baby…I experience a sense of loss as real as losing one of the children I can see and touch and smell and play with and talk to and shower with kisses all over their faces. I now know through personal experience that even women who are told they just have a “blob of tissue” in their uterus know better. It’s innate to our experience as women and it penetrates the core of our beings. Deep down, we know.
We know it’s a baby.
Grieving for a miscarried child is difficult in that there are not many things to cling to as memories. Not much to hold on to for comfort in the midst of loss. Sometimes it almost feels like a phantom pain. Were you a boy or a girl? What would we have named you? Who would you have grown up to be? How would my life have changed having three children under three years old? Would you have my curly hair and blue eyes or Daddy’s dark handsome good looks? What were your temperament and personality traits? What would labor and delivery have been like with you, my little Easter baby?
Thoughts like these roll through my head and pierce my heart and I long to grasp on to the answers – any answer – to the questions that have none. At least not in this life.
As news of my miscarriage began to spread, I was overwhelmed with love and support from other women who had experienced the same loss of a child. I saw tears well up in the eyes of women who didn’t even know me. I received hugs and phone calls and offers to help from women I’d barely met. And yet they understood my pain almost better than I did. I’m very grateful for this love which lifted me up in a sorrowful time.
And so on this day of remembrance for God’s littlest angels, and of support for those of us who miss them, I send my love and thoughts and heartfelt condolences to all of my readers who’ve lost a baby.
I trust in God’s plan for our families, and I place my hope in the promise of the resurrection.
To Him be the glory.